SMASH AN EGG, GET YOUNG PEOPLE TO JUST SAY NO TO SMACK

She looks like a cross between Winona Ryder and a young version of Pat
Benatar - a little powder keg of sanctimonious energy smashing a raw egg,
drinking glasses, kitchen appliances and anything else that gets into the
way of her frying pan. And all because of heroin.

"This is what happens to you," she says, smashing the egg that's supposed
to symbolize heroin addiction.

"This is what happens to your family," and the glasses crash.

Smash, crash, bam. "Any questions?"

Too cool, my soon-to-be 12-year-old tells me of the new anti-drug
television commercial that kicked off July 9. It's part of a $1 billion,
five-year television advertising campaign in the nation's so-called war on
drugs. And it's a message intended to reverse growing drug abuse among
pre-teens and teen-agers. The average age for a kid to try marijuana, for
instance, is now 13.

Predictibly, there are dissenters who don't like this campaign. They think
that the federal money would be better spent on after-school programs for
latch-key children and to provide drug treatment for thousands of young
people on waiting lists.

But why pit one necessity against the others?

We know that advertising campaigns - when done right - can change attitudes
and, more important, behaviors. And we know that young people are very
vulnerable to advertising and the bombardment of messages on television and
radio. We also know that much of what they watch on television and in the
movies is trash that promotes trashy behavior.

For too long this nation has spent its time fighting drugs in all the wrong
places - by locking up addicts when we should be treating them medically,
as we do alcoholics, and by putting too little money into anti-drug
education.

Certainly, more money should be pumped into drug treatment. And money is
needed for after-school programs, such as those provided by the Boys and
Girls Clubs, which can keep kids off the streets until parents - and, too
often, struggling, single parents - get home from work. The states and
local government should be doing more on those two fronts.

When all is added up, this five-year advertising campaign won't represent
more than 1 percent of the federal government's drug-fighting budget.

There's plenty of bang for every federal buck spent. The federal money will
pay television and radio stations to air the ads, and broadcasters will
match that time, and broadcasters will match that time with free
public-service messages. The campaign will seek mentors for kids, encourage
parents to speak often to their children about drug abuse and produce shock
ads, like the frying-pan one, that talk to young people in their
"language."

The ads already have proved to make a difference in a 12-city trial. Calls
for help to a national drug hotline have increased by 300 percent in those
cities since the ads began airing, and drug-abuse counselors believe that
more young people will seek help.

Similar ads worked in the 1980s to decrease drug use among teens, too.

What we're dealing with is ignorance. That's precisely what Gen. Barry
McCaffrey, who heads the White House Office of National Drug Control
Policy, is trying to combat.

The campaign's goal is to reach American families at least four times a
week, through advertising on TV, radio, newspapers, billboards and the
Internet. Attitudes won't change overnight, which always seems to be too
many people's expectations. Within two to three years, though, the ads
should start showing a decline in drug use among youth.

The federal government is taking drug-education mission seriously. The
money it is devoting to this drug campaign rivals the advertising money
spent by such biggies as American Express and Nike.

Instead of the Nike Swoosh, we get a Smash from a young lady with a frying
pan and an attitude. Too cool.

Myriam Marquez is an editorial page columnist for the Orlando Sentinel.
Readers may write to her at the Orlando Sentinel, 633 North Orange Ave.,
Orlando, FL 32801, or by e-mail at OSOmarquez@aol.com

Checked-by: (Joel W. Johnson)